


Sin

by NotEvenCloseToStraight



Series: Good Omens [2]
Category: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Angel/Demon Relationship, Angel/Demon Sex, Bottom Crowley - Freeform, Fluff and Humor, Idiots in Love, Implied Sexual Content, Insecure Crowley, M/M, Pet Names, Romance, Top Aziraphale (Good Omens), True Love, ineffable husbands, reassurance, sweet and sappy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-22
Updated: 2019-06-22
Packaged: 2020-05-16 15:30:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 850
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19320979
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NotEvenCloseToStraight/pseuds/NotEvenCloseToStraight
Summary: “Love is never a sin.” Aziraphale vanished a second pair of sunglasses as well. “Don’t hide from me beneath those, I want you listening. Crowley, my dear. Love is never a sin. Our love is not a sin and neither is this, when we are together.”He passed a possessive hand across Crowley’s stomach, tracking up towards the demons heart. “I do believe this is as close to heaven as I’ll ever want to be again, right here with you.”“Close to heaven.” Crowley repeated, stunned by the show of emotion from his usually composed angel. “Here with me?”“Of course.” Aziraphale’s lips twitched into an endearing smile, tinged with the satisfaction that only came from someone who had all they wanted, as often as they wanted it. “And you can’t call something heavenly a sin, it just isn’t right.”





	Sin

**Author's Note:**

> (OH LOOK more tooth rotting sweetness from my new favorite ship. Save me.)
> 
> (Just kidding, don’t save me. I would drown for this pair. I regret nothing.)

There was nothing quite as lovely as Crowley when he was very nearly wrecked like this, gasping at every touch and arching his back into a nigh impossible bend to get closer always  _closer_ , his eyes all black and only rimmed in yellow, mouth open and teeth sharpening because it was very very hard to keep the demon at bay when it was an  _angel_ tormenting him so thoroughly. 

So  _deliciously_. 

“Lovely.” Aziraphale murmured and the noise Crowley made as the angel pulled away was practically wounded _,_ his hips jerking up in a helpless, greedy appeal for  _more_. “My nightingale you are lovely.” 

“One day– _hnngh_.” Crowley bit right through his lip trying not to whine at the barest press of fingertips at the sweep of his hipbone. “One day you are going to tell me why you insist on such a stupid nickname but for right now I’d really rather you do something  _else_ with your mouth.” 

“Crowley!” the aforementioned mouth fell open in a perfectly rounded ‘o’, eyes wide with shock. “You don’t like my nickname for you?” 

“M’sorry, sorry no I love it.” Crowley was far past being suave and right on the edge of begging, saying what ever it took for his angel to stop talking and keep doing what he’d been doing before he’d sat up and decided to jabber on like one of those infernal chattering  _nuns_. “I love it, I love it, I promise. Call me whatever you like. Woodpecker. Blue jay. Mockingbird, I don’t care. But don’t stop– _oh_!” 

He collapsed back into the pillows, a loose collection of utterly useless limbs when Aziraphale bent and placed an entirely too chaste kiss just there below where his navel would be– he’d forgotten to conjure one up this time,  _damn_ it was difficult remembering all of humanity’s bits and pieces. 

“What would you have me call you, then?” Aziraphale dotted another kiss at the curve of Crowley’s ribs, where a brush of scales glimmered black edged with gold and green as they twisted round to his back. “If you don’t like nightingale.”

 

“I said I love it, didn’t I?” Crowley growled. “Call me whatever you like and get on with it. You were practically there anyway–” he wiggled his hips in an entirely suggestive, and fairly crude, manner. “–don’t stop now. What’s a little more sin after what we’ve done? We can have the nickname conversation later.” 

“ _Crowley_!” 

“Oh for heav–for hell–  _for fucks sake_!” Crowley groaned out loud and yanked a pillow over his lower half so he wouldn’t have to appease Azira with conversation while his dick bobbed around in the air, looking just as flushed and  _neglected_ as he was feeling. 

“What.” he bit out. “What did I say  _now_?” 

The demon sat up abruptly when he saw what could almost be tears in his angels eyes. “Hey hey hey, don’t cry, angel. At least not when our clothes are off, what’s the matter?” 

Aziraphale gathered the blankets up and around his chest, such a human gesture of attempted modesty that Crowley sighed and sat up further, reaching for his angel with one hand. “Come on then, what’s the matter.” 

“This isn’t…sin.” the angel said slowly, clearly and Crowley raised an eyebrow in question. “It isn’t sin. Not us. Not  _this_.” 

“Well technically there’s a few things in a Holy book or two about–” 

“Technically  _nothing_!” Azira announced. “Don’t try to be technical with me, Crowley, I won’t have it. This is not sin and we won’t continue one whit until you stop calling it that.” 

“I dunno what the problem is.” Crowley said uncomfortably, feeling around for his sunglasses on the side table and scowling when the angel simply vanished them away. “I didn’t mean anything by it, just wanted you to–” 

“Love is never a sin.” Aziraphale vanished a second pair of sunglasses as well. “Don’t hide from me beneath those, I want you listening. Crowley, my dear. Love is  _never_ a sin. Our love is not a sin and neither is  _this_ , when we are together.” 

He passed a possessive hand across Crowley’s stomach, tracking up towards the demons heart. “I do believe this is as close to heaven as I’ll ever want to be again, right here with you.” 

“Close to heaven.” Crowley repeated, stunned by the show of emotion from his usually composed angel. “Here with me?” 

“Of course.” Aziraphale’s lips twitched into an endearing smile, tinged with the satisfaction that only came from someone who had all they wanted, as often as they wanted it. “And you can’t call something heavenly a  _sin_ , it just isn’t right.” 

“Not right.” he echoed. “No, I suppose I can’t, not if you’re going to put it like that.” 

“Now that that’s settled.” the beatific smile sharpened into something much much  _less_ angelic. “Where were we?” 

“Oh  _fu_ –” Crowley fisted desperately at the sheets when Aziraphale whisked the pillow away and went back to whichever bit of  ~~sinful~~ heavenly business he’d been doing with his tongue. “Oh Angel Angel  _Angel_ I–” 

Heaven. 

Not sin at all. 


End file.
